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THE ROCK ISIiAND ARGUS. TUESDAY, FEBRUARY 6, 1912.
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CHAPTER XI.
The Log Hut In the Mountain.
What awakened the woman she did
not know; In all probability It was
the bright sunlight streaming through
the narrow window before her. The
cabin was so placed that the tun did
not strike fairly into the room until
It was some hours high, consequently
she had her long sleep out entirely un
disturbed. The man had made no ef
fort whatever to awaken her. What
ever tasks he had performed since day
break had been so silently accomplish
ed that she had not been aware of
them.
So soon as he could do so, he tad left
the cabin and was now busily engaged
In his dally duties outside the cabin
and beyond earphot. He knew that
sleep was the very best medicine for
her, and it was best thst she should
not be disturbed until In her own good
time she awoke.
The clouds had emptied themselves
during the right, and the wind had
at lant died away toward morning, and
now th ro was a great calm abroad in
the land. The sunlight was dazzling.
Outside, where the untempered rays
Ik at full upon the crests of the moun
tains. It was doubtless warm, but with- I
In the cabin It was chilly. The fire '
l.ad long slnre burned completely i
sway, and he had not entered the room I
to replenish it. Tet Enid Maitland had
lain snug and warm under her blan-!
ke ts. She presently tested her wound- j
td foot, by moving It gently, and dis-1
covered agreeably that it was much
less painful than she had anticipated.
The treatment the night before bad j
been very successful.
She did not get up Immediately, but ,
the coldness of the room struck her so j
sonn as she got out of bed. Upon her
first awakening she was hardly con
scious of her situation; her sleep had
been too long and too heavy, and her
awakening too gradual for any sud
den appreciation of the new condition.
bed or berth In which she had slept,
built against the wall in one of the
corners, a rude table on which were
writing materials and some books.
A row of curtained shelves, evidently
made of small boxes and surmounted
by a mirror, occupied another space.
There were two or three chairs, the
handiwork of the owner, comfortable
enough In spite of their rude construc
tion. On some other pegs hung a
slicker and a sou'wester, a fur over
coat, a fur cap and other rough clothes;
a pair of heavy boots stood by the
fireplace. On another shelf there were
a number of scientific Instruments, the
nature of which she could not deter
mine, although she could see that they
were all In a beautiful state of pres
ervation. There was plenty of rude comfort In
the room, which waa excessively man
nish. In fact, there was nothing any
where which In any way spoke of the
existence of woman except a picture
In a small, rough, wooden frame which
stood on the table before which she
sat down. The picture was of a hand
some woman naturally Enid Maitland
saw that before anything else. She
would not have been a woman if that
had not engaged her attention more
forcibly than any other fact in the
room. She picked It up anr studied
It long and earnestly, quite . uncon
scious of the resson for her interest,
and yet a certain uneasy feeling might
have warned her of what was toward
In her bosom.
This young woman had not yet had
Mme to get her bearings. She had not
been able to realize all the circum
stances of her adventure. So soon as
he did so she would know that Into
her life a man bad come, and what
ever the course of that life might be
In the future, he would never again
be out of It.
It was therefore with mingled and
untranslatable emotions that she stud
led this picture. She marked with a
certain resentment the bold beauty
conversation had been a brief one, and
her opportunity for Inspection of him
consequently limited. Yet she had
taken him in. He was a tall, cplendid
man. No longer young, perhaps, but in
the prime of life and vigor. His com
plexion was dark and burned browner
by long exposure to sun and wind, win
ter and summer. In spite of the brown,
there was a certain color, a hue of
health in his cheeks. His eyes were
hazel, sometimes brown, sometimes
gray, and sometimes blue, she after
ward learned. A abort thick closely
cut beard and mustache covered the
lower part of his face disguised but
not hiding the squareness of his Jaw
and the firmness of his lips.
He bad worn his cap when he enter
ed, and when he took it off she no
ticed that his dark hair was tinged
with white. He was dressed In a leath
er hunting suit, somewhat the worse
the fare, too, yet she noticed that the
fork was of sliver, and by her plate
there was a napkin, rough dried, but
of fine linen. The man had just set
the table when she appeared.
"I am sorry I have no cream," he
said, and then, before she could make
Comment or reply, he turned and
walked out of the room, his purpose
evidently being not to embarrass her
by his presence while she ate.
Enid Maitland had grown to relish
the camp fare, bringing to it the appe
tite of good health and exertion. She
bad never eaten anythlr.g that tasted
so good to her as that rude meal that
morning, yet she would have enjoyed
the brimming, smoking coffee pot on
it better, she thought, if he had only
shared it with her, if she had not been
compelled to eat it alone. She has
tened her meal on that account, deter
mined as soon as she had finished her
breakfast to seek the man and have
some definite understanding with
him.
And, after all, she reflected that
she was better alone than in his
presence, for there would come steal
ing into her thoughts the distressing
episode of the morning before, try
as she would to put It out of her mind
Well, she was a fairly sensible girl;
the matter was passed. It could not be
neipea now, sne wouia lorget it as
much as was possible. She would
recur to it with mortification later on.
but the present was so full of grave
problems that there was not any room
for the past.
CHAPTER XII.
He Caught It Up Quickly.
It was not until she had stared around j ult PPwnt despite the dim fading
the walls of the rude csbfn for some- outlines of a photograph never very
time, that she realized where she waa ' P3- 80 far " ,he could dlBcern. tce
and what had happened. When she ' m m M dark naired and dark eyed
did so she arose at once. T "rect antithesis! The casual
Her first impulse was to call Never ' 'ewer would have found little of fault
is her life had she felt such death-1 lil tte presentment, but Enid Mait-
like stillness. Even In the camp ai-1 hind s eyea were sharpened Dy unai,
most always there had been a wkli. Pr: At Dy rl.
per of breeze through the pine trees,
or the chatter of water over the rocks.
Hut here there were no pine trees and
no sound of rushing brook came to
her. It was almost painful. She was
Ueen to dress and go out of the bouse.
She stood upon the rude puncheon
floor on one foot, scarcely able yet to
bear even the lightest pressure upon
the other. There were her clothes on
chairs and tables before the fireplace.
Puch had been the heat thrown out by
that huge blaze that a brief inspec
tion convinced her that everything
was thoroughly dry. Dry or wet, she
must needs put them on, since they
were all she had. She noticed that
there were no locks on the doors, and
she realized that the only protection
she had waa the sense of decency and
the honor of the man. That she had
been allowed her sleep unmolested
made her the more confident on that
account.
She dressed hastily, although It was
the work of some difficulty In view of
her wounded foot, and of the stiff con
dition of her rough, dried apparel.
I'resently she wss completely clothed,
rave for that disrobed foot. With the
big clumsy bandage upon It, she could
not draw heretocklng over It, and even
If she succeded In that, she could in
no wsy make shift to put on her boot.
The situation was awkward, the pre
dicament annoying. She waa wearing
bloomers and a short skirt for her
mountain climbing, and she did not
know quite what to do. She thought of
tearing up one of the rough, unbleach
ed sheets and wrapping it around her
leg, but she hesitated as to that. It
was very trying. Otherw ise, she would
have opened the door and stepped'out
Into the open air. Now she felt her
self virtually a prisoner.
She had been thankful that no one
had disturbed her, but now she wished
tor the man. In her helplessness she
thought of his resourcefulness with
tagemess. The man, however, did not
appear, and there was nothing for her
to do but to wait for him. Taking one
of the blankets from the bed. she sat
down and drew It across her knees and
took stock of the room.
The cabin was built of logs, the
room was large, perhaps IS by SO feet,
with one side completely taken up by
the stone fireplace; there were two
windows, one on either side of the
outer door, which opened toward the
southwest The walls were uapUster
ed save la the chicks between the
rough hewn logs of which it was made.
Over the fireplace and around on one
aide ran a rude shelf covered with
books. She had no opportunity to ex
amine them, although later she would
become familiar with every one of
them.
Into the walls on the other tide
were driven wooden pegs; from some
of them hung a pair of anow shoes, a
heavy Winchester rifle, fishing tackle
and other necessary wilderness para
phernalia. On the puncheon floor wolf
and bear skins were spread. In one
corner against the wall again were
piled several splendid pairs of horns
from the mountain sheep.
The furniture cons..ted of the single
she decided that
the woman was of a rather coarse
fiber, that in things finer and higher
she would be found wanting. She was
such a woman, so the girl reasoned
acutely, as might inspire a passionate
affection in a strong hearted, reckless
youth, but whose charms being large
ly physical, would pall in longer and
more intimate association; a danger
ous rival in a charge, but not so for
midable in a steady campaign.
These thoughts were the result of
long and earnest Inspection, and it
was with some reluctance that the girl
at last put the photograph aside and
looked toward the door. She was hun
gry, ravenously so. sne Degau 10 do
a little alarmed, and had just about
made up her mind to rise and stum
ble out as she was, when she beard
steps outside and a knock on the
door.
"What Is It?" she asked In response,
"May I come in?"
"Yes," was the quick answer.
The man opened the door, left it
ajar and entered the room.
"Have you been awake long?" he
began abruptly.
"Not very."
"I didn't disturb you, because you
needed sleep more thsn anything else.
How do you feel?"
"Greatly refreshed, thank you."
"And hungry, I suppose?"
"Very."
"I will soon remedy that Your
foot?"
"It seems much better, but I"
The girl hesitated, blushing. '1 can't
get my shoe on, and "
"Shall I have another look at it?"
No, I don't believe It will be neces
sary. II I may have some or mat lini
ment or whatever It was you put on
it and more of that bandage, I think
I can attend to it myself, but. you see,
my stockings and my boot "
The man nodded; he seemed to un
derstand. He went to his cracker box
chiffonier and drew from It a long,
coarse woolen stocking.
That is the best that I can do for
you, he said.
"And that will do very nicely," said
the girl. "It will cover the bandage,
and that is the main thing."
The man laid on the table by the
aide of the stocking another atrip of
bandage torn from the same sheet As
he did to, be noticed the picture. He
caught It up quickly, a dark flush
spreading over bis face, and holding
it In his hand, he turned abruptly
away.
"I will go and cook you some break'
fast while you get yourself ready. If
you have not washed, you'll find a
bucket of water and a basin and towel
outside the door."
He went through the Inner door as
suddenly as he had come through the
outer one. He was a man of few words,
and whatever social grace he might
once have possessed, and in more fa
vorable circumstances exhibited, wrs
not noticeable now. The tenderness
with which he had caressed her the
night before had also vanished.
His bearing had been cool, almost
harsh and forbidding, and his manner
was as grim as bis appearance. The
for wear, but fitting him In a way to
give free play to all his muscles. His
movements were swift, energetic and
graceful. She did not wonder that he
had so easily hurled the bear to one
side and had managed to carry her no
light weight, indeed! over what she
dimly recognized must have been a
horrible trail, which, burdened as he
was, would have been impossible to a
man of less splendid vigor than he.
The cabin was low celled, and as
she sat looking up at him, he had tow-
ered above her until he seemed to
fill It Naturally, she had scrutinized
his every action, as she had hung on
his every word. His swift and some
what startled movement, his frowning
as he had seized the picture on which
she had gazed with such interest
aroused the liveliest surprise and cu
riosity in her heart.
Who was this woman? Why was he
so quick to remove the picture from
her gaze? Thoughts rushed tumult
ously through her brain, but she real
ized at once that she lacked time to
indulge them. She could hear him
moving about in the other room. She
threw aside the blanket with which
she had draped herself, changed the
bandage on her foot, drew on the
heavy woolen stocking which, of
course, was miles too big for her, but
which easily took in her foot and
ankle encumbered as they were by
the rude, heavy but effective wrapping.
Thereafter she hobbled to the door
and stood for a moment almost aghast
at the splendor and magnificence be
fore her.
He had built his cabin on a level
shelf of rock perhaps fifty by a hundred
eet In area. It was backed up against an
overtowering cliff, otherwise the rock
fell away in every direction. She di
vined that the descent from the shelf
into the pocket or valley spread before
her was sheer, except off to the
right, where a somewhat gentler ac
clivity of huge and broken boulders
gave a practicable ascent a sort of
titanic stairs to the place perched
on the mountain side. The shelf was
absolutely hare save for the cabin
and a few huge boulders. There were
a few sparse, stunted trees further up
on the mountain side above; a few
hundred feet beyond them, however,
came the timber line, after which
there was nothing but the naked
rock.
tseiow several nundred reet lay a
clear, emerald pool, whose edges were
bordered by pines, where It was not
dominated by high cliffs. Already the
lakelet was rimmed with Ice on the
shaded side. This enchanting little
body of water was fed by the melting
snow from the crest and peaks, which
in the clear, pure sunshine and rarl-
fied air of the mountains seemed to
rise and confront her within a stone's
throw of the place where she stood.
On one side of the pretty lake in
the valley, or pocket, beneath, there
was a little grassy clearing, and there
the dweller In the wilderness had
built a rude corral for the burros. On
a rough bench by the side of the door
she saw the primitive conveniences to
which he had alluded. The water
was delightfully soft and as it had
tood exposed to the sun's direct rays
for some time, although the air was
exceedingly crisp and cold, it was
tempered sufficiently to be merely
cool and agreeable. She luxuriated
In it for a few moments, and while
she had her face burled in the towel.
rough, coarse, but clean, she heard a
step. She looked up in time to see
the man lay down upon the bench a
small mirror and a clean comb. He
said nothing as he did so, and she had
no opportunity to thank him before
he was gone. The tboughtfulness of
the act affected her strangely, and she
was very glad of a chance to unbrald
her hair, comb it out and plait It
again. She bad not a hair pin left of
course, and all she could do with it
was to replalt it and let it hang upon
her shoulders. Her coiffure would have
looked very strange to civilization, but
out there in the mountains, It was em
inently appropriate.
Without noticing details, the man
felt the general effect as she limped
back into the room toward the table.
Her breakfast was ready for her. It
was a coarse fare, be con; a baked po
tato, hard tack ensped before the fire,
coffee, black and strong, with sugar,
but no cream. The 4ishea matched
A Tour of Inspection.
The first thing necessary, she de
cided, when she had satisfied her hun
ger and finished her meal, was to get
word of her plight and her resting
place to her uncle and the men of the
party, and the next thing was to get
away, where she would never see this
man again, and perhaps be able to for
get what had transpired yet there
was a strange pang of pain In her
heart at that thought!
No man on earth had ever so stim
ulated her curiosity as this one. Who
was he? Why was he there? Who
was the woman whose picture he had
so quickly taken from her gaze? Why
had so splendid a man buried himself
alone in that wilderness? These re
flections were presently interrupted by
the reappearance of the man himself.
"Have you finished?" he asked, un
ceremoniously standing in the door
way as he spoke.
Yes, thank you, and it was very
good indeed."
Dismissing this politeness with a
wave of his hand, but taking no other
notice, he spoke again.
"If you will tell me your name'
"Maitland. Enid Maitland."
"Miss Maitland?"
The girl nodded.
"And where you came from, I will
endeavor to find your party and see
what can be done to restore you to
them."
"We were camped down that canon
at a piace wnere another brook a
large one, flows into It, several miles,
I should think, below the place
where
She was going to say "where you
found me," but the thought of the way
in which he had found her rushed
over her again; and this time, with
his glance directly upon her, although
It was as cold and dispassionate and
Indifferent as a man's look could well
be, the recollection of the meeting
to which she had been about to allude
rushed over her with an accompany
ing wave of color which heightened
her beauty as it covered her with
shame.
She could not realize that beneath
his mask of indifference so deliber
ately worn, the man was as agitated
as she, not so much at the remera
brance of anything that had trans
plred, but at the sight the splendid
picture, of the woman as she stood
there in the little cabin then. It seem
ed to him as if she gathered up in
her own person all the radiance and
light and beauty, all the purity and
freshness and splendor of the morn
lng, to shine and dazzle in his face.
As she hesitated In confusion, perhaps
comprehending its cause, he helped
out her lame and halting sentence.
"I know the canon well," he said.
I think I know the place to which
you refer. Is it just above where the
river makes an enormous bend upon
Itself?"
Yes, that is it In that clearing
we have been camped for two weeks
My uncle must be crazy with anxiety
to know what has become of me,
and"
The man interposed.
"I will go there directly," ha said.
"It Is now half after ten. That place
is about seven miles or more from
here acrpss the range, fifteen or twen
ty by the river. I shall be back by
nightfall The cabin is your own."
He turned away without another
word.
"Walt," said the' woman,
afraid to stay here."
She had been fearless enough before
In those mountains, but her recent ex
perience had somehow unsettled her
nerves.
"There is nothing on earth to hurt
you, I think," returned the man.
"There isn't a human being, so far as
I know, in these mountains."
"Except my unele's party?"
He nodded.
"But there might' be another bear,"
she added desperately, forcing herself.
"Not likely; and they wouldn't come
here if there were any. That's the
first grizzly I have seen In years.
he went on, unconcernedly, studiously
looking away from her, not to add to
her confusion at the remembrance of
that awful episode which would ob
trude itself on every occasion. "You
can use a rifle or gun?"
She nodded. He stepped over to
the wall and took down the Winches
ter which he banded her.
"This one is ready for service, and
yon will find a revolver on the ahelf.
There is only one possible way of ao
cess to this cabin; that's down those
rock stairs. One man, one woman, a
hold It against an army."
"Couldn't I go with you?"
"On that footr
Enid pressed her wounded foot upon
the ground. It was not so painful
when resting, but she found she could
not walk a step on It without great
suffering.
"I might carry you part of the way,"
said the man. "I carried you last
night but it would be Impossible, all
of It"
Promise me that yon win be back
by nightfall, with Uncle Bob and "
"I shall be back by nightfall, but I
can't promise that I will bring any
body, with me."
"You mean?"
"You saw what the cloudburst near
ly did for you," was the quick an
swer. "If they did not get out of that
pocket, there is nothing left of them
now."
"But they must have escaped," per
sisted the girl, fighting down her
alarm at this blunt statement of possi
ble perlL "Besides, Uncle Robert and
most of the rest were climbing one of
the peaks, and "
"They will be all right then; but if
I am to find the place and tell them
your story, I must go now."
He turned, and without another
word or a backward glance, scrambled
down the hill. The girl limped to the
brink of the cliff over which he had
plunged and stared after him. She
watched hint as long as she could see
him, until he wsb lost among the
trees. If she had anybody else to de
pend upon, she would certainly have
felt differently toward ' him; when
Uncle Robert and ner aunt and the
children, and old Klrkby, and the rest
surrounded her, she could bate that
man in spite of all he had done for
her, but now she stared after him de
terminedly making his way down the
mountain and through the trees. It
was with difficulty she could restrain
herself from calling him back.
The silence was most oppressive,
the loneliness was frightful. She had
been alone before in those mountains,
but from choice; now the fact that
there was no escape from them made
the sensation a very different one.
She eat down and brooded over her
situation until she felt that if she did
not do something and in some way di
vert her thoughts she would break
down again. He had said that the
cabin and Its contents were hers. She
resolved to inspect them more close
ly. She hobbled back into the great
She
Having completed her inspection ot
this room, s be opened the door and
went Into the other. It was smaller
and less Inviting. It had only one
window, and a door opened outside.
There was a cook stove here, and
shelves with cooking utensils and
grantteware, and more rude box re
ceptacles, on the walls which were fill
ed with a bountiful and well selected
store of canned goods and provisions
of various kinds. This was evident
ly the kitchen, supply room, china
closet She saw no sign of a bed In
it and wondered where and how the
man had scent the night
By rights, her mind should have
been filled with her uncle and his
party, and in their alarm she should
have shared, but she was so extremely
comfortable, except for her foot which
did not greatly trouble her so long as
she kept It quiet, that she felt a cer
tain degree of contentment, not to say
happiness. The adventure was so ro
mantic and thrilling save for those
awful moments In the pool especially
to the soul of a conventional woman
who had been brought up in the most
humdrum and stereotyped fashion of
the earth's ways, and with never an
opportunity for the development of
the spirit of romance which all of us
exhibited some time in our life, and
which, thank God, some of us never
lose, that she found herself revelling
In it
She lost herself in pleasing Imagina
tions of tales of her adventures that
she could tell when she got back to
her uncle, and when she got further
back to staid old Philadelphia. How
shocked everybody would be with It
all there! Of course, she resolved
that she would never mention one ep
isode of that terrible day, and she had
somehow absolute confidence that this
man. In spite of his grim, gruff taci
turnity, who had shown himself so ex
ceedingly considerate ot her feelings,
would never mention it either.
She had so much food for thought
that not even In the late afternoon of
the long day could she force her mind
to the printed pages of the book she
had taken at random from the shelf
which lay open before her, where she
sat in the sun, her head covered by an
old "Stetson" that she had ventured
to appropriate. She had dragged a
bear skin out on the rocks in the sun
and sat curled up on it half reclining
against a boulder watching the trail,
the Winchester by her side. She had
eaten so late a breakfast that she had
made a rather frugal lunch out of
whatever had taken her fancy in the
store room, and she was waiting most
anxiously now for the return of the
man.
The season was late and the sun
sank behind the peaks quite early in
the afternoon, and it grew dark and
chill long before the shadows fell upon
the dwellers of the lowlands.
Enid drew the bear skin around her
snd waited with an ever-growing ap-
prehension. If she should be com
pelled to spend the night alone in that
cabin, she felt that she could not en
dure it. She was never gladder of
anything In her life than when she
saw him suddenly break out of the
woods and start up the steep trail,
and for a moment her gladness was
not tempered by the fact which she
was presently to realize with great
dismay, that as he had gone, so he
now returned, alone.
(To be Continued.)
Trie Victor
Victrola
If you cannot come to the
store and hear the Victor Vic
trola sign the attached coupon
and we will send a Victor Vic
trola to your address without
any expense to you and without
obligating you to purchase.
ARTHUR P. GRIGGS,
121 East Second Street,
Davenport, IowaC
Without obligating myself
to purchase, pleaae send to my
home one Victor-Victrola
Style ..
Name
Street Address
City
(A)
Victor-Victrola IV $15
No payment down, 50 cents per
week beginning in 30 days.
Victor-Victrola VI $25
No payment down, 75 cents per
week beginning in 30 days.
She
Watched Him as Long
Could See Him.
as
room and looked about her again,
There was nothing that demanded
careful scrutiny. She wasn't quite
sure whether she waa within the pro
prieties or not but she seized the old
est and most worn of the volumes on
the shelf. It was a text book on min
ing and metallurgy, she observed, and
opening it to the fly leaf, across the
page she saw written in a firm, vig
orous masculine hand a name, "Wil
liam Berkeley Newbold " and be
neath these words, "Thayer Hall, Har
vard," and a date some seven years
back.
The owner of that hook, whether the
present possessor or not, had been a
college man. Say that he had gradu
ated at twenty-one or twenty-two, he
would be twenty-eight or-twenty-nine
years old now, but it so, why that
white hair? Perhaps, though, the
book did not belong to the man of the
cabin.
She turned to other books on the
shelf. Many of them were technical
books, which she had sufficient gen
eral culture to realize could be only
available to a man highly educated.
and a special student of mines and
mining a mining engineer, she de
cided, with a glance at those Instru
ments and appliances of a scientific
character plainly, but of whose actual
use she was ignorant.
A rapid Inspection of the other
books confirmed her in the conclusion
that the man of the mountains was
Indeed the owner of the collection.
There were a few well worn volumes
"1 am of poetry and essays, Shakespeare, a
Bible, Bacon, Marcus Aurelius, Eplcte-
tus, Keats, a small dictionary, a com
pendious encyclopedia, just the books,
he thought smiling at her conceit
that a man of education and culture
would want to have upon a desert Is
land where his supply of -literature
would be limited.
The old ones were autographed as
the first book she had looked in; oth
ers, newer additions to the little li
brary. If she could Judge their condi
tion, were unsigned.
Into the corner cupboard and the
drawers, of course, she did not look.
There was nothing else in the room
to attract her attention, save some
piles of manuscript neatly arranged
on one of the shelves, each one cover
ed with a square of board and kept
In place by pieces of glistening quartz.
There were four of these piles and an
other half the size of the first four
on the table. These, of course, she did
not examine, further than to note that
the writing was in the same bold,
free hand as the signature in the
books. If she had been an expert she
might have deduced much from the
"Clean Up the Bowels and
Keep Them Clean"
There are many remedies to be
had for constipation, but the diffi
culty is to procure one tht acts
without violence. A remedy that
does not perform
b y force what
should be accom
plished by persua
sion is Dr. Miles'
Laxative Tablets.
After using them,
Mr. N. A. Waddell,
315 Washington
St., Waco, Tex.,
says:
"Almost all my
life I have been
troubled with constipation, and have
tried many remedies, all of which
teemed to cause pain without giving
much relief. I finally tried Dr. Miles
Laxative Tablet and found them ex
cellent. Their action is pleasant and
mild, and thftir chocolate taste makes
them easy to take. I am more than
glad to recommend them."
"Clean op the bow'els and keep
them clean," is the advice of all
physicians, because they realize the
danger resulting from habitual con
stipation. Do not delay too long,
but begin proper curative measures.
Dr. Miles'- Laxative Tablets are a
new remedy for this old complaint,
and a' great improvement over the
cathartics you have been using in
the past. They taste like candy
and work like a charm. A trial
will convince you.
Dr. Miles Laxative Tablets are
sold by all druggists, at 25 cents
a box containing 25 doses. If not
found satisfactory after trial, re
turn the box to your druggist and
he will return your money.
MILE3 MEDICAL CO., Elkhart, Ind.
TS"
$40
week
Victor-Victrola VIII. .
No payment down, $1
beginning in 30 days.
per
Victor-Victroia X $75
No payment fiewn, $1.00 per week
beginning in 30 days.
eefiey-
mm fm Pri tamn, Opm.
- Ml.
t RiorsssM ua
ether Drat Vtimg,
the Tchecce Kab4
aos Ncarettbcaia.
lMB W imiTUTL
writing; as it was, she fancied it was
chilL even, with these weapon could atrong, direct manly.
L1TTEN & ROBERTS
LOCAL
SECURITIES
OF THE
TRI-CITIES
Peoples National Bank B!d'g.
Fhone Went 122 -
IPil
i .."fit ?1
Victor-Victrola XIV.
No payment down, $2
beginning in 30 daos.
DO
. $150
per week
mmfhn mm
IMirLvi rim
Victor-Victrola XVI .
No payment down, $3
beginning in 30 days.
$200
per week;
GRIGGS
THE VICTOR MAN.
121 East Second Street
Davenport, Iowa.